The triumph is more for Branagh as a filmmaker than as an actor, though he makes quite a good Hamlet. He plays the Danish prince as an engaging, sociable fellow, not a dreamer or melancholic. The result is a Hamlet unfettered by layers of interpretation -- though one could miss, with Branagh's levelheaded approach, the sense of Hamlet's being a strange and fascinating man.

Branagh's great achievement here is in his creating a "Hamlet" of clarity, vibrancy and directness. He takes Shakespeare's full text and makes it feel all of a piece -- and makes it live, too. This isn't easy. Most stage versions cut the play, and perhaps even Shakespeare's own company performed an abridged version. But Branagh's four-hour "Hamlet" flies by.

BRILLIANCE AND VULGARITY

The four hours fly thanks to Branagh's combination of brilliance and vulgarity. Branagh is not a Shakespearean who has condescended to make movies. He is, by instinct, a showman. He sees nothing excessive, for example, in having Hamlet, at the climax, impale Claudius with a chandelier. His most brazen moments never seem cynical, backed as they are by unmistakable enthusiasm. Branagh's groundling tastes are sincere.

The world he creates for "Hamlet" -- set in the 19th century -- is not the usual film noir milieu of darkness and shadow. If something is rotten in Denmark you'd never know it from the opulent court, glowing like something out of a Shakespearean comedy. The tensions are beneath the surface. Claudius (Derek Jacobi) and Gertrude (Julie Christie), the King and Queen, look radiant and confident. And when Claudius expresses concern about Hamlet's grief for his dead father, it seems genuine. He feels Hamlet's pain. It's a good act.

Of course, nothing is more depressing than to be the sad one at a party, and so Hamlet is especially depressed -- until the ghost of his father (Brian Blessed), the murdered King, comes and tells him what to do. Hamlet has to kill Claudius because Claudius killed Hamlet's father. And in case you have any doubt of this, Branagh backs up the ghost's words with a flashback, showing the King's poisoning in his garden -- a pretty gruesome murder, too.

Branagh has fun with non-Shakespearean flashbacks in "Hamlet," and he uses them to good effect. When Ophelia, played as a spunky young lady by Kate Winslet, is told by her father, Polonius, to shun Hamlet's affections, we see Hamlet and Ophelia romping in bed. Flashbacks also show Claudius and Gertrude drinking and carousing -- these are people of outward charm but low character.

Branagh is at his best when bantering, not speechifying. Pretending to be insane with Polonius (who is played both as shrewd and as a windbag by Richard Briers), he is often funny, sticking out his tongue and acting deranged, unable to contain his contempt.

Hamlet's "speak the speech" rant to the Players is made for Branagh's mincing, quibbling playfulness. This is fol lowed by a dazzling staging of the play- within-a-play scene. In a frenzy of enthusiasm, Hamlet stands onstage, introduces the players like a Danish Ed Sullivan and publicly taunts Claudius.

Branagh's weakest moments come in the back-to-back soliloquies in the middle of the film. His anger in the "Oh, what a rogue" speech seems forced, and he almost dismisses the impossible "To be or not to be" speech. His angry encounter with Ophelia ("Get thee to a nunnery") is the one place where the limit of Branagh's nice-guy approach to Hamlet is felt. If he is so reasonable, where does the impetus to be cruel to Ophelia come from?

In rare moments Branagh's showmanship gets in the way. He cranks up the soundtrack too high for the "How all occasions" soliloquy, which he delivers while standing in a snow field. This comes right before the intermission, and Branagh wants a big finish, even if he has to impose it.

But usually Branagh's instincts are right. His filming of the entire play is more than a gimmick or selling point. Scenes that usually get short shrift are given their rightful weight, and the story comes into greater focus. This is the tragedy of a humane, modern man forced into bloody medieval intrigue.

SCHEMING SENSUALIST

The British also shine. Derek Jacobi plays Claudius as the perfect empty suit. He's a booming voice and a nice haircut, and he looks good in a uniform. But underneath, he's just a scheming sensualist and, in Branagh's version, rather ineffectual. The casting of Julie Christie is another inspiration. She does well, playing Gertrude as precisely the kind of wife you'd expect someone like Claudius to have -- easily impressed, tenderhearted but shallow, and none too bright.

"Hamlet" is a four-hour delight, and that in itself makes it an extraordinary film. While it is perhaps not in the same league with a towering masterpiece such as Sergei Bondarchuk's "War and Peace," it is worthy of being discussed in the same breath.

In the 80 years that works of world literature have been adapted for the screen, few filmmakers have attempted so much and with such success.